Shiver
by LiciINaBOX
Summary: The Glee Project - He has always been unnoticed, uncared for, unbothered with. He honestly wouldn't have it any other way if it wasn't for one thing: being in love with the most popular person in school. In an attempt to get their attention, he sings a song of unrequited romance. Dameron.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N -** this idea came to my head as I was listening to Cameron's acoustic cover of 'Shiver' on repeat (if you haven't heard it, here à www .youtube watch?v= eALZkOrRzVU - REMOVE SPACES). The idea was originally with my crush and me. One-sided romance hurts and I know that I can't post my original idea here so I thought it would work well for a Dameron story because Cameron did sing the cover haha. Well anyway… here goes nothing!_

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own 'Shiver' (tis Colplay's song) nor do I own Damian, Cameron, or the Glee Project (sadly)_**

_**EDIT -** Went over the story and noticed a lot of errors so I fixed 'em!_

* * *

He couldn't help it. He couldn't help not having friends. He couldn't help having little to no social skills. He couldn't help the fact he liked the nerdy look. He couldn't help being a reserved in the closest musician. He couldn't help being depressed. He couldn't help being a Christian. He couldn't help being… homosexual. And he definitely couldn't help falling in love with the most popular guy in school, the boy from Ireland, the school's current president: Damian McGinty. It hurt him inside. It truly did.

While Damian was off winning soccer games, cracking jokes with his friends, eating lunch, or just sitting in class—Cameron would watch. His mind was just so mesmerized by the higher ranked boy; starting from his athletic build, his dark hair, his adorable accent, his infectious laugh and smile, his bright blue eyes… His eyes… Cameron just imagines swimming in them, to just stare into them for the rest of his life; to dive into his soul so he could feel every emotion the Irish boy feels. He would give anything to just caress his beautiful face. He bet the skin would be as soft as silk with just the right amount of callousness from athletic activities.

He would literally give anything.

He would do anything.

Just seeing the boy take a half-second glance at him sent his heart soaring into his throat. It made him forget how to breathe. It actually made him feel like someone special. Not just some guy in the background that no one cared for.

He wants to do something.

He _needs_ to do something.

Therefore, he added his name to the talent show sign-up list.

It was time to show the school, the world… and Damian what he was made of.

* * *

Damian was the one to introduce him and his performance. Being school president and all, he was supposed to.

Honestly, Cameron didn't think that he would actually make it into the show. It was always a favorite among annual activities. Many auditioned, only 15 acts made it in. Somehow, he was lucky enough to be one of those 15.

"Wow! What a fantastic performance!" Damian said merrily into the microphone, his Irish accent booming throughout the auditorium, a large toothy grin plastered to his perfect face. Cameron gulped as his hold on the neck of his guitar tightened. This was going to be his first time performing in front of any living thing (second, counting auditions) and he was terrified. Not only that, he was singing this song to the exact same person opening for him.

"Okay! Are you having a good time watching all of these talented individuals?!" A roar of cheers echoed throughout the large room, "Fantastic! All right, so you may not know him but he is the final act of the afternoon. Is it Coldplay in here? Because I'm starting to_ 'Shiver'_!" He puts on a large grin while warping his arms around himself to prove his point. A small round of laughs were heard, most likely from those Coldplay fans that understood the reference. Cameron himself couldn't help the corners of his own lips quirking up in a small smile, "Anyway, give it up for Cameron Mitchell!" He says, earning a small round of applause before walking casually off the stage to sit next to the other school representatives in the front row.

Cameron exhaled nervously, making sure his guitar strap was secure, adjusting his glasses, and sauntering onto the stage. He could feel the stares, hear the whispers of 'Who's he?' or 'I've never seen this guy before'. He bites his lip, walking up to the mic stand, and planting himself in front of it—positioning his fingers to the correct first chord of the song. He then begins to strum the introduction before opening his mouth and letting his voice finally be heard.

_So I look in your direction_  
_But you pay me no attention_  
_Do you?_

The acoustic melody of his guitar and his voice are probably one of the most beautiful combinations for a cover of a song some of them have ever heard. For those who know the song almost thought it was better than the original. The original was a bit more upbeat and this version was just… sad—like a song about one-sided romance should be.

_I know you don't listen to me_  
_'Cause you say you say you see straight through me_  
_Don't you?_

Cameron had his eyes closed for the beginning. He finds them opening slightly before scouting Damian easily in the front row. The Irishman appears to be in awe from the act in front of him. His gorgeous eyes staring—mesmerized, perfectly plump lips parted a little.

_But on and on…_  
_From the moment I wake _  
_To the moment I sleep_  
_I'll be there by your side_  
_Just you try and stop me_  
_I'll be waiting in line_  
_Just to see if you care…_

His eyes open a bit wider and he locks them with Damian's, not letting the wanting gaze drop.

The brunette notices his stares and he lightly bites his lip in apprehension.

_Oh…_  
_Did you want me too change?_  
_But I've changed for good_  
_And I want you to know_  
_That you always get your way_  
_I wanted to say…_

The blond on stage broke his gaze with Damian and looked down at the strings. He closed his eyes in content before continuing to the chorus.

_Don't you shiver…_  
_Don't you shiver…_  
_Shiver, ooo…_

He reopened his eyes and looked at the Irish boy.

_I'll always be waiting for you…_

Damian's breathe hitched slightly. This guy… was singing this song of unrequited love to… him? Why?

_So you know how much I need you_  
_But you never even see me_  
_Do you?_

His eyes fill with anguish as he breaks eye contact again. Cameron feels this way nearly everyday. Not just at school, but at home too. Ever since his sisters moved out, his parents kind of just slowly stopped paying much attention to him and more on their jobs or whatever else that had nothing to do with him. For example, he told them he was performing tonight and they didn't show. He can almost feel the tears stinging at the back of his eyes. But he can't let them out. Not now.

_And is this my final chance of getting you?_

A majority of him thinks it is, but he still had that small part of him that hoping, screaming, that Damian gets the message. He can't take the pain of being invisible and alone for much longer.

_And on and on…_  
_From the moment I wake_  
_To the moment I sleep_  
_I'll be there by your side_  
_Just you try and stop me_  
_I'll be waiting in line_  
_Just to see if you care_  
_If you care…_  
_Oh…_

He can feel the salt water prickling at the corners of his eyes, but he closes them to keep the tears back. Please, just not now.

_Did you want me to change?_  
_Well I've changed for good_  
_And I want you to know_  
_That you always get your way_  
_I wanted to say…_

His eyes find him again. The action was completely involuntary. One of those unconscious habits he developed—one he doesn't even notice until he gets snapped out of it. Though whenever that happens, the bell rings or the teacher hands him a test or quiz (which he usually never passes with more than a C-).

_Don't you shiver…_  
_Don't you shiver…_  
_Shiver, ooo…_  
_I'll always be waiting for you…_

Something inside Damian clicks at that moment. He's not sure what it is but… he feels a great urge to talk with Cameron after all of this. To tell him… he doesn't really know.

_So I look in your direction_  
_But you pay me no attention _  
_And you know how much I need you_  
_But you never even see me…_

His voice cracks at the end. A single tear slips down his cheek. His eyes still locked with the boy he loves—bright blue against dulled blue.

Cameron doesn't wait for applause before he quickly scurries off the stage so he doesn't have to stare into those gorgeous eyes. Any longer he would become a weeping mess in front of the whole school.

The auditorium is silent as he leaves. However, the quiet moment is shattered as an eruption of applause and loud cheering sounds throughout not only the auditorium, but the rest of the school, too.

Damian finds himself staring at the spot where the blonde stood. The spot where he poured his heart out with a song not very many people knew. And to him of all people…

He actually knew this guy never talked at school. He's gotten pushed around, with no apology since the person who pushed him didn't even notice that they knocked down or shoved some tall blonde kid onto a locker. He always sat in the back of the classroom near a window. And when ever Damian would catch him staring at him, he would turn red and quickly turn away. Maybe this guy watched to tell him: 'I love you. I want to hold you. I want to stand next to you. I want to hold your hand. I want to love you. I want you… But I know I can't have you…' Damian has always thought to be straight by the community and himself. Maybe… he was wrong.

He has to find Cameron.

The applause is starting to die down and Damian has yet to appear on stage like he's supposed to—he's still staring at the mic stand, completely lost in thought. The vice-president, Samuel Larsen, takes notice and nudges him; nodding his head toward the stage. Damian flushes in embarrassment and quickly makes his way to the center of the stage where he would close the show and everyone can go home for the weekend. He gulps slightly and speaks into the mic.

"Well, how was that?" An eardrum shattering cheer roars. Damian laughs nervously before continuing. "I'm glad you all enjoyed the show! But, sadly, it is now over… So I hope you all have a fantastic weekend! I will see you all on Monday!" He waves goodbye to the crowd before they all stand from their seats and make their way to the nearest exit.

Damian exhales heavily before running off the stage. He has to find Cameron. He needs to talk to him.

He sprints into the emptying hallway, seeing no sign of the tall blonde. Yeah, there are blondes around, but none have the same messy hair as Cameron.

Moments later, he finds himself in the front of the school. It's practically empty now, so his chances in finding him are hopeless. He sighs and rests against the brick wall of the school—running a hand through he hair.

"Damian?" A voice says. The Irishman jumps slightly, but relaxes after seeing who it is. Lindsay Pearce. She's best friends with the school secretary and head-cheerleader, Marissa Von Bleicken, so he knew her quite well. He remembers that she used to be blonde… when did she dye her hair? "Sorry, did I scare you?"

The brunette chuckles slightly, "Only a little bit."

Lindsay smiles and nods, "So, uh… I was looking for you… and after that performance by that blonde guy—forgot his name—at the end, I got to thinking… Maybe he was telling us that if we love someone that we should do something about it…" Damian thought about that. It made sense but he knew the real reason. "So… um… I just wanted to…" She cut herself off before groaning in some unknown emotion, grabbing the collar of Damian's shirt, and pressing her lips to his.

Damian stared at her with wide eyes. She was kissing him? He was the one she liked? Well shoot. In honesty, he would've pushed her away, but he was just so shocked he couldn't control his muscles.

In the corner of his vision, he sees something. Someone, actually. He sees messy blonde hair, thick-rimmed glasses, white cardigan, plaid flannel, skinny jeans, black guitar case. He sees the person turn around and race off.

Cameron.

A sudden rush of adrenalin shot through the Irishman and then gained control of his muscles and was able to push the girl off him. She stared at him with shocked blue eyes—ready to burst into tears at any second.

"Damian..?"

"I'm sorry, Lindsay… But I don't feel the same way…" He says, his eyes apologetic. Though, he doesn't let her get another word in before he sprints off in the direction Cameron went.

He doesn't see him.

He doesn't find him.

He lost him.

* * *

When the performance ended, Cameron had quickly stashed his guitar into its case and dashed into hallway where he knew no one would see him cry. A few sobs escaped his system as he pushed up his glasses to wipe away the tears. It didn't take long for them to stop coming though. Just in time for when the students, teachers, and parents in the auditorium starting to pour into the hallways.

He had earned some pats on the back by people he didn't know and some 'That was amazing!' by some others. It honestly did wonders for his self-esteem, but it didn't last long as the hallway began to empty and he made his way outside. He saw everyone get on either a bus, a car, or walking away from the school. He himself walked but he still had something he needed to do. He had decided to stand by the tree in front and wait. He adjusted the guitar case strap that rested on his shoulder and waited for the boy he loved to step out.

There he was. Leaning against the school's wall, looking exhausted. Cameron blushed slightly before taking a couple of steps in that direction. Though he stopped when a petite girl with dark curls approached the Irish boy. The blonde's breathe hitched slightly as he bit his lip. The girl appeared nervous talking with him. Damian smiled sweetly at her before just staring at her with an emotion he couldn't identify.

Then she kissed him.

And he didn't do anything about it.

Cameron gawked with wide eyes—tears threatening to spill. He poured his heart and soul into that song and this is how he repays him? Kissing some girl? Right… He was straight… How could he even think for a second that he even had a _chance_ with the most popular guy in school? With that, he let a couple tears fall before he pivoted on his feet and darted off. He needed to get away. He needed to go home. He can't stand seeing this. Though the scene kept replaying in his head. It wouldn't leave.

He doesn't stop running until he's at his front door. His lungs are burning due to the lack of oxygen- but he doesn't care.

As he pulls out his keys, he notices a sticky note on the door.

_Robert_  
_I am going to be out for the weekend and your father is out on business until next week, okay?_  
_Remember to go to church on Sunday._  
_Love you._

Cameron glowers at the note before ripping it off the door, crumpling it up and tossing it on the floor. He fumbles with the keys and barges into the house in a burst fury and just emotional pain. He immediately runs to his room, drops his guitar down, throws his backpack across the room—which knocks over a couple of CD racks—, and throwing himself onto his bed. He punches the pillow in anger and begins to sob. Never in his life had he ever felt this much misery. Why does something as simple a damned kiss have to hurt so badly?

* * *

It's now Saturday and he hasn't moved an inch from his bed. He's still wearing the clothes he had yesterday, not eating, basically crying his eyes out, and he's quite sure he's been over-sleeping. He's also been biting his hand so he can release the pain inside and make it physical. It's not good enough.

His blue eyes spot a pair of scissors that lay on his desk. That'll do. For the first time in 24 hours or so, he stands. He's footing is slightly wobbly but he manages to make it to the desk. He grasps the sharp object and sits back down on his bed.

There he makes the first cut.

His white cardigan sleeves and blue bed sheets are soon stained with blood. He thinks it looks nice.

* * *

Sunday afternoon. He skipped church and just lies in bed. He doesn't feel the need to go there. He was sure he was going to Hell anyway. For committing such harmful acts to himself and for being gay. So what's the point? No one would even care if he went anyway. Would they even care if he just died?

He doubts they would.

No one would care when he graduates in two months, no one would care if he did nothing for the rest of his life, no one would care if he sang a song to the person he loves most. So why would they care if he were to just vanish from existence?

He thinks for a moment. What would be the easiest way to go? He doesn't feel like cutting himself again. Then, he sees his bottle of anti-depressants on his bedside table. He blinks before reaching for them. He remembers getting his refill only a few days ago.

This should work.

The blonde stumbles off his bed before hurrying to his desk. He grabs a random piece of paper (the back of some old math homework he never turned in) and the first pen he saw.

Once he was finished with his message, he placed it on his bedside table and sat on his bed—looking over the bottle of medication. This would be the first thing he consumed in days so he's unsure how much he can hold.

He pops the cap off and starts to swallow them dry.

Cameron falls unconscious within an hour—a more than half-empty bottle of pills falling to the floor.

* * *

"Robert, I'm home." Mrs. Mitchell calls out as she opens the door later that night. She doesn't receive an answer, that's no different. Her son usually never talks. So, instead of him answering, she goes to check up on him. Mainly to see if he's all right.

She opens his door slowly, "Robert—Cameron, I'm—" She stops upon seeing the pills scattered across the floor, a pair of bloody scissors stabbed into the wall, blood splatters on the bed sheets, the red-orange colour on her sons white sleeves, his closed eyes, his chest barely rising and falling. She screams at the sight, putting a hand to her mouth to muffle them. A few stray tears escape her eyes as she fumbles her bag for her cell phone and dialing 911.

* * *

He's in a coma. He is for four days.

It's critical for the doctors working with him but soon they find out it's no use. Nothing they do is working.

On the fourth day, they realize that it can't be helped. Cameron can't be saved. He can't rely on life-support forever.

With the permission of his parents, the plug is pulled.

He's gone.

* * *

Damian was worried. The blonde hasn't showed up for school for the passed few days and he still desperately needed to talk with him. Over the days, he's all he thought about. Those sad blue eyes, the pure emotion in his voice when he sang. In all honesty, the Irishman developed a requited liking to him. Maybe he would be able to turn those sad eyes to ones filled with joy once they approached each other, held each other, kissed… He wanted to know how it felt. That feeling of love. He actually told Sam about it and the dreadlocked VP was completely cool about it. They were best friends, after all.

But he will never get the chance to.

"Hey Damian," Samuel said, approaching the Irishman after school on Friday for student council meeting. He had this morning's newspaper in his hand and he looked a little distressed.

Damian raised an eyebrow at his friend, "Yeah? What's up?" The vice-president dropped the paper onto the Irish boy's lap and looked down at him with sad eyes.

"Third page. I just read it, we were supposed to read it anyway but I think it's more relevant to you than anyone of us." He directs to the other ASB representatives. The others found out about his little crush, too, and they all looked a bit devastated.

With a sigh, Damian opened to the page he was told. There was a picture of Cameron there—he looked amazing in it. A bright smile on his face, the thick-rimmed glasses resting on his nose, blonde hair kept neat. This was probably his professional senior picture. But why was his picture in the newspaper? So he broke contact with the photo and read the article.

_Last night, a tragic happening befell to high school senior: Robert Cameron Mitchell. It was reported that Sunday afternoon he consumed almost an entire bottle of anti-depressants in a suicide attempt and has remained in a coma for four days before the plug had to be pulled._

Damian's breath got caught in his throat. What?

_No one knows the reason for his suicide but there was a note on the side of his bed that said:_

_So I look your direction,_  
_But you pay me no attention,_  
_And you know how much I need you,_  
_But you never even see me…_

_I'm sorry._  
_I love you,_  
_Mom,_  
_Dad,_  
_Damian._  
_I hope you have an amazing life without me._

The Irishman couldn't read anymore before he threw the paper across the room and buried his face in his hands. Tears poured from his eyes, sobs racking against his throat. His body shivered uncontrollably. Shiver… That song… He incorporated it in the note… The thought made him scream out in anguish. It hurt so damn bad. And he hardly even knows Cameron. Was this how he felt on a daily basis?

Samuel and Marissa both have their arms around their friend to comfort him. The ginger girl can feel the tears coming to her eyes, but they're from sheer sympathy.

Damian hardly feels the comfort, let alone the arms.

All he feels is pain as he continues to shiver.


	2. If He Lived

_**A/N -**__In all honesty, this story received less interest than I thought it would… Makes me really sad actually. So, I decided to make a version where Cameron didn't die and there's a happy ending! Because everyone looooves happy endings! -sarcasm- :b_

_Yeah. This takes place after his mother finds him and dials 911, so enjoy. AND PLEASE REVIEW AND/OR FAVOURITE! THEY MAKE ME HAPPY :D_

* * *

He was lucky. It took a few days, but the doctors were able to get him stable to the point where he was finally able to breathe on his own. Though, he didn't wake right away. His eyes remained closed for two more days before his eye lids slowly fluttered open_—_life returning to the once dying boy.

Cameron didn't understand. He was supposed to be dead; not staring at the crisp white ceiling of a hospital, not being able to hear the beeping of the machines hooked to him, and he definitely shouldn't be breathings, moving, awake… He was supposed to be dead, damn it!

He clenched his teeth tightly before feeling the heat of tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Not one was supposed to save him. No one was supposed to care. Why did someone waste time reviving him when they could have aided someone that actually mattered one that was not already dying inside from emotional pain. Someone who could do something worthwhile. Not him.

The door to his room opened at that moment. Cameron jerked into a sitting position at the sound of the creaking door, but relaxed slightly when he saw it was just a nurse. Upon seeing him awake, she gasped loudly and ran back out of the room.

After a few minutes, his doctor waltzed into the room. He has already seen his face plenty of times throughout the duration of his teenage years. Cameron begins to sob at the sight of the older man_—_knowing he was one of the people that saved him. He buried his face in hands and let the tears fall.

Dr. Andrews winced at the sight of his unstable patient. He had been seeing Cameron for years, witnessed his sadness, the inner turmoil, and prescribed his medications. Now he spent days in a struggle to save this boy from a lethal dosage of the exact same medication, which he had taken purposely. He sauntered to the bed, sat down, and wrapped his arms around his patient in attempt to comfort him. Cameron only continues to weep into his hands_—_though falling slightly to lean against his doctor.

The minutes that pass until the blonde's sobs diminish feel like hours; at least to Cameron it does.

"There, there…" Andrews murmurs, rubbing the boy's back soothingly. "Feeling any better? When he doesn't receive a response, he sighs and pulls away. "Probably not… Tell me, what are you feeling right now, Cam?"

Cameron exhales raggedly before speaking for the first time, he was guessing, in a week. "W-why?" He mumbles, "Why did you b-bother saving me…?" He turns his gaze to his doctor. "I-I'm not worth it… I h-have nothing worth w-waiting for… I…I wanted to die, Jack!" His voice raises as he feels more tears rolling down his face.

Doctor Jack Andrews face contorts into an expression akin to sympathy and concern. "Cameron… I understand that you wanted to die. But, listen… You may not have anything to wait for but there may be something or someone waiting for you. And to that something or someone_—_you _are_ worth it."

Cameron scoffed softly and shook his head_—_looking away. "Sure, and that's why no one… especially _him_ don't look at me… The only time I ever felt seen was when I sang that damn song." He used the back of his hand to wipe the stray tears away. He notices bandages are wrapped around his forearms_—_of course, they would hide the glorious marks from him. "And even then he didn't care… He just goes and kisses some girl in front of my face…"

Ah, that's probably what caused him to snap. Jack had known that his patient was homosexual for three years. He was the first and only person Cameron came out to.

"You know Cameron…it could've been a huge misunderstanding," He says. "She might have surprised him with it and he was in too much shock to move."

The blonde shook his head and stares at his lap. He wishes that were true, but there's this feeling in his gut that tells him otherwise.

Jack sighs again before standing and patting the boy on the back. "I'm going to go and call your mother. She'll be thrilled to see you awake." Cameron nods before laying himself back down on the pillow.

"Oh," He continues, "and tomorrow you'll be moved to the mental health department for a couple of days for hospitalized counseling before letting you go home, return to school and resuming with a weekly scheduled therapy sessions." The blonde responds by rolling onto his side_—_facing the opposite direction of his doctor. He hears another sigh, tapping of retreating shoes, and a door closing.

* * *

He felt that the counseling was absolutely horrendous. He was just glad to be checked out of that hospital and go home. Though, he couldn't be alone. It was made perfectly clear that his bedroom door had to be open at all times and that his mother was to check up on him every five minutes (not really, just exaggerating the point). He didn't like it, but it beat being treated as if he were mad. He just…let his depression get the best of him.

It was not Tuesday morning and he found it somewhat awkward walking the hallways of the school with uncaring people that he though to have abandoned over a week ago. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to go back to being unnoticed. And he didn't want to see Damian. He had four classes and homeroom with him so it would be difficult to avoid the Irish lad.

It's about half way through homeroom and he does a pretty decent job at ignoring Damian. He's alone again. Not one really noticed his absence_—_he didn't care though. But, his involuntary habit kicked into play as he began to space out and_—_without turning his head_—_fixed his gaze on Damian.

Cameron expected the Irish boy to be facing his group of friends_—_chatting away_—_not appearing to give a care in the world. Though what he did see was Damian with his group of friends, but the brunette wasn't paying them any attention. He was looking right at Cameron.

The blonde snapped his head up and blinked. Damian was staring at him? W-what… why? The Irishman smiles slightly and he feels his face head up before his shocked gaze turned anxious. His heart is racing and he is finding it strenuous to take in air.

Now he really didn't want to be here right now.

As if God had heard him, the bell rang; signaling the end of homeroom. Startled, he snapped his gaze away from Damian, snatched his bag, and scurried out of the room at record speed.

For one, he was glad he didn't have first period with the Irish boy.

* * *

Damian had been worried. The blonde hadn't shown up for school in over a week and he still desperately need to talk with him. Over the week, Cameron was all he thought about. Those sad blue eyes, the pure emotion in his voice when he sand… he wondered what his normal talking voice sounded like. In all honest, the Irishman had developed a requited liking toward him. Maybe he would be able to turn those sad eyes into ones filled with joy once they approached each other, held each other, kissed… He wanted to know how it felt. That feeling of love. He actually told Sam about it and the dreadlocked VP was completely cool with it. They were best friends after all.

Occasionally, he thought about the kiss with Lindsay. He didn't feel anything when they kissed. It was…uneventful. He thought that maybe he and the ex- blonde girl could be friends, at least, but he hasn't seen one sign of her for the entire week. He kind of gave up on the idea.

Another Cameron-less Monday cam and went and Tuesday morning was now upon him.

He entered his homeroom with his normal group of friends and a not so normal sullen look on his face. Somehow he though Cameron was going to be a no show again. That is, until he spotted a patch of messy blonde hair in the corner of his vision. Damian perked up as he focused his gaze to the blonde. He looked completely dazed, with his chin rested on his hand and distressed eyes glaring out the window. Cameron… He was back.

"Damian?" One of his friends, Bryce, caused him to break his gaze and glanced at the six other people around him. "You all right, dude? You look a little spaced." Bryce comments. Damian feels the blood rushing to his face and smiles sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'm good." He says with a chuckle. The others gave him questioning looks before continuing the previous conversation.

Damian attempts to listen to the conversation about girls (not interesting) and football (American football; also not interesting) but finds himself once again staring in Cameron's direction.

He loses track of time. He doesn't know how long he's been staring. It kind of makes him feel like a stalker, kind of.

Cameron's eyes shift_—_Damian notices_—_and points in his direction. The blonde's head snaps up to look at him, shocked by the look of it. His eyes were wide and lips parted slightly. Damian thought it looked cute_—_really cute actually. He couldn't help the amused smile playing at the corners of his lips

The blonde blushes a deep red colour and furrows his eyebrows in anxiety. Damian tilts his head; what's going on in Cameron's head?

Before he knows it, the bell rings and the blonde is basically already out the door. The Irishman sighs before grabbing his bag and leaving to his first class with his uncaring group of friends.

* * *

Cameron managed to avoid him for the rest of the day. It was practically a miracle that he was able to in the first place. Damian almost approached him during lunch, but he fared to escape and seek solitude on the roof of the school. Most clever idea he ever had.

The final bell of the day rang_—_he had survived his first day back. However, no one questioned his absence, let alone say anything. Singing that damned song was pointless, wasn't it?

Unlike his other classes, he didn't attempt to escape as quickly as he could. He didn't have sixth period with Damian, so that's why.

Cameron wound up being last out of the room_—_no different. But the moment he his foot stepped out, a hand grabbed his cardigan sleeve and pulled him toward the back of the building. The blonde yelped at the force of being tugged away and for fear that his sleeve might have ridden up. He still has scars to hide.

Moments later, he finds himself outside the back of the school_—_face to face with the boy he's been trying to avoid: Damian freaking McGinty. Cameron once again found breathing difficult as the Irishman's eyes stared into his.

"I've been trying to talk to you all day," Damian states. Cameron bites his lip in apprehension. "Actually, I've been wanting to talk with you for over a week! Where have you been?" Concern is easily detected in his voice. Cameron tried to reply, but the words are stuck in his throat. He just continues to stare at the boy he loves.

"Cameron?" The blonde blushes at the way his name rolls off Damian's tongue. "Are you listening?"

His blush deepens as he looks down at his feet. "Sorry…" He says softly. Damian gulps. So that's what he sounds like. His speaking voice is actually very similar to the one his sings with. It's light with a small amount of husk entwined into it. He like the way it sounded.

Damian gives the blonde a small smile. "Don't apologize… You don't have to tell me where you've been. I was just…overcome with worry. You were all I thought about and I barely even know you…" He ducks his head slightly and sighs.

Cameron looked up_—_surprise evident on his face. "You…were worried about me?" He almost smiled. Almost. "B-but…what about that_—_that girl?"

The Irishman gave him a quizzical look before his eyebrows shot up. "Oh…Lindsay… I should probably explain that. Well, I went to look for you…because I wanted to talk to you after you performed _'Shiver_'." Cameron swore his heart stopped, "But she came up to me, basically saying that she liked me, and…kissed me. I was…in shock! I couldn't move_—_I was completely frozen," He paused. "Then, in the corner of my eye, I saw you standing there. Then you ran away. I managed to push Lindsay off of me and went after you. But I had lost you. I thought that maybe I could talk to you on Monday_—_though you never showed. Not until today, that it. I was…" a breathy chuckle, "relieved to see you."

Tears were prickling at the blonde's eyes. So, Jack was right. He had just… overreacted. Now he feels better about not dying. Just a little bit. "Oh…" He mutters. "Guess I kind of overreacted then…" He looks back down to his ankle boots. "Did you…like the song?" He says, trying to change the subject so Damian wouldn't ask what he meant by 'overreacted'.

Damian grinned and laughed. "I loved it." Cameron jerked his head up and gaped at the brunette.

"Really? Wow…um… Did you…get the message?" A deep red colour brushed across his face.

"Yes," Damian smiles sweetly, "Loud and clear. And let me tell you this: I never have and never will like you." He says bluntly. Cameron could feel his heart shattering_—_piece by piece, the tears getting closer to spilling. That appreciated feeling about failing his suicide began to evaporate. "That is because…at the moment you sang the last note, I realized…I am in love you, Cameron Mitchell." Those thoughts were suddenly taken back and his heart reformed. Though, the tears fell anyway. Cameron pulled his glasses off his face and rubbed his watery eyes_—_sobbing freely. Damian started to panic. Did he say something wrong? He didn't know what to do.

"Jesus, Cameron, are you okay?" The Irishman grabbed the other's shoulder and looked up at him_—_worried.

Cameron tried to speak through his weeping, but was having difficulty. All he really managed to do was nod his head and mutter a few simple words. "Y-y-ye-yes… I-I-I'm j-just_—_" A sob stopped him from speaking, so instead he smiled_—_to show exactly what he was trying to say. Damn, he had forgotten how great smiling felt.

Damian smiled back; that was the first time he saw Cameron smiling. He thought it made him look beautiful. His grip on the blonde's shoulders tightened as he leaned forward closing the distance between them, silencing Cameron's sobs. The blonde didn't even feel surprised_—_he felt much too happy to feel anything else. He eagerly kissed Damian back, unintentionally letting his glasses slip from his hand to the ground, and moving his hands to the back of his neck_—_lacing his lithe fingers through Damian's dark locks.

The time spent with their lips locked feel almost like…not enough. After those 45 seconds or so, the find themselves pulling apart for air. They both sport big, goofy grins when they see each other's flushed faces.

"Wow…" Damian mumbles, "That felt…"

"Amazing." Cameron finished for him pressing their foreheads together, their noses nuzzling. He catches himself staring into Damian's bright blue eyes_—_looking tight into his soul, feeling his emotion. The ones he spots are the same ones he currently feels. Pure love and desire. Beautiful.

"I love you… Always have." Cameron whispers without thinking.

Damian smiles softly, "I…love you too." The distance closes once again.

During the kiss, they think of the song that got them here.

Maybe they will never again shiver.


End file.
